


Hand Me Downs

by myracingthoughts



Series: Hallmark Holiday Movie Bingo [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adopted Children, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Kid Fic, Loss of Parent(s), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27858474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myracingthoughts/pseuds/myracingthoughts
Summary: Bucky watched as a young girl bolted straight to the pastry display, tiny hands and nose smooshed against the glass. She couldn’t have been older than six, but she was the perfect picture of carefree. Her brown hair was in two neat plaits on either side of her face, hot pink mittens held to her coat by strings trailing behind her on the floor. But it wasn’t her that caught Bucky’s attention.Not exactly.Because on further inspection, Darcy Lewis sidled up behind her, arms around the little girl’s waist as she hoisted her up to ogle the treats a little closer, eliciting a giggle.Darcy Lewis resurfaces in New York City with her niece after four weeks of radio silence with Jane, the team, and even Bucky. She called it a family emergency, but something tells Bucky it's bigger than that.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis
Series: Hallmark Holiday Movie Bingo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035525
Comments: 120
Kudos: 416
Collections: Darcy Lewis Bingo





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! I've got a little something something for Wintershock fans to get us through December.
> 
> This fic will be updated every Thursday.
> 
> It also checks off my 'Main character bonds with the kid of the love interest' [Hallmark Holiday Movie Bingo](https://pasmonblog.tumblr.com/post/634579786258432002) square.

It was a little known fact around the Tower that Bucky Barnes had a major sweet tooth.

His little secret was that some days he’d sneak off into the city, baseball cap and sunglasses in tow as he poached a bistro table at a local bakery (one of many he kept on his shortlist) and enjoyed some time outside the Tower. Just him, a cup of coffee, and some sort of delicacy— usually sugary sweet.

Steve and maybe a couple of others had caught him on one of his runs, but never said anything, not wanting to turn what was probably one of his healthier habits into a sore spot.

Today was one of those days. 

The snow outside was just starting to fall, the sun barely peeking through the cracks in the fluffy clouds, and it seemed like the perfect way to celebrate the first proper winter day of the season. Bundled up, only to fit in with the rest of the Manhattan regulars, the cold was also an easy excuse to pull his hood a little further down his face.

People-watching — surveillance, technically — used to be his bread and butter day-job, and some might have assumed he’d be sick of the instinct by now. But the former assassin was content to watch those as-to-close-to domestic moments could get, leisurely sipping his hot cocoa in the back corner of the cafe. Maybe it was the jingle bells hanging from the Christmas tree in the corner, the tinsel or maybe even the good old fashioned popcorn strung around the fir. 

Whatever it was, Bucky Barnes was feeling a little warm and fuzzy himself.

 _Was this what people called nostalgia?_ He wondered, thoughts drifting to cold nights at his apartment with Brooklyn, huddled under blankets with Rebecca and a much smaller Steve.

The jingle of the bell and the little giggle and hop of tiny feet onto the fuzzy doormat cut into his train of thought.

Bucky watched as a young girl bolted straight to the pastry display, tiny hands and nose smooshed against the glass. She couldn’t have been older than six, but she was the perfect picture of carefree. Her brown hair was in two neat plaits on either side of her face, hot pink mittens held to her coat by strings trailing behind her on the floor. But it wasn’t her that caught Bucky’s attention. 

Not exactly. 

Because on further inspection, he realized it was Darcy Lewis who sidled up behind her. Darcy snaked her arms around the little girl’s waist, hoisting her up to ogle the treats a little closer. There was something familiar about the giggle that followed, something in his stomach dropping into the abyss as he watched.

Darcy’s wide grin broke into a whisper that Bucky could just make out over the noise of the rest of the bakery. “Do you know which one you want, Maisie?”

“Ummm, I want the chocolate one there,” Maisie replied, finger pointed to the front left of the display.

Darcy set her back down on the ground, as Maisie craned her neck to try to see over the counter that dwarfed her by a few inches. It was different, though, the way Darcy looked down at her; it was unlike any look he’d ever seen of hers. There was a sadness lingering just below the surface. One that drew him closer, leaning into his elbows as he took it in, feeling guilty. 

Feeling like he was intruding on their moment. 

It was none of his business, really. They weren’t even that close. Barely colleagues. But even he recognized that as the same lie he’d been telling himself the last few weeks, hearing it in the same rote tone he’d used to answer Steve when he stopped by to ‘check in on him’ three days ago. 

Bucky absentmindedly rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to figure out how to make himself known before this whole thing got more awkward.

“Make that a dozen assorted and one chocolate fudge cupcakes,” Darcy offered to the server behind the counter. “We can drop them off at the Tower before I show you my place, munchkin.”

Before Bucky could find the right moment to announce himself and stop being the creeper in the corner, Darcy spotted him. Eyes wide and awkward smile pasted on his face, he gave a wave, watching as Maisie followed Darcy’s glance with a scrunched face.

“Still have that sweet tooth, I see.”

She didn’t greet him with a hug or a brush of her shoulder. There was no offering of coffee or baked goods in return for a little conversation. The roles had changed— _a lot_ had changed. They were just two adults here. Two adults that happened to know and run into each other on the street.

“Always,” Bucky chuckled. “It’s been a while, Darce. How’ve you been?”

Darcy Lewis had quietly left town a month back, citing some family emergency, and hadn’t returned since— part of the reason Bucky wasn’t exactly expecting to run into her on the street. Foster had taken the opportunity to make her rounds on the conference circuit while she was away, still somewhere in Europe by his count. 

Not that he made a habit to know where every person in the Tower was at all times. Darcy was a bit of a special case, if he was honest.

Not that he’d ever say it out loud.

But needless to say, she’d been missed. The Tower always seemed quieter without the giggles trailing down the halls and the flashes of white teeth and red lips that slipped past every floor to ceiling glass panel in the place. Quieter without the buzz of his phone, lighting up with some pop culture reference she wanted to school him on.

“Too polite to say I dropped off the face of the f—” her eyes snapped down to Maisie, seemingly rethinking her choice of words “— _udging_ planet, huh?”

That was probably the first time someone had called Bucky polite (to his face and otherwise), which caught him a little off guard, scrambling to find some excuse to write it off.

“Wasn’t sure how much you wanted to say with little ears present.”

Maisie immediately pouted, feeling ignored by the two adults talking like she wasn’t there.

“My ears aren’t that little!”

“You’re absolutely right. They’re the perfect size,” Darcy chuckled, crouching down slightly to wrap an arm around her and pulling the girl into her side. “Maisie, I want you to meet someone. This is my friend Bucky from work.”

 _Friend_. Was that what they were? 

Maisie was a little shy, hip locked to Darcy’s side as her little hands latched onto her wool jacket.

“Is he an Avenger?”

Bucky honed in on the little red, white and blue shield pin on her wool jacket. Steve would have melted at the sight, and he’d be a liar if he said the sparkle in her eyes didn’t warm his insides.

“Yep,” Darcy said, eyes locked on his. “Bucky, this is my niece Maisie. She’s, uh, living with me now.”

Bucky crouched down to Maisie’s height, watching as her big green eyes snapped to him, “It’s nice to meet you, Maisie.”

She squeezed Darcy’s hand and looked up at her for permission before replying, “Nice to meet you, too.”

That little hesitation, the insistence of staying at Darcy’s side spoke volumes.

“Do you want to tell Bucky how old you are?”

She shrunk back a little, nervously smiling as she held up her open palm, “Five.”

“Wow, five whole years old?” Bucky breathed with the kind of smile he reserved for kids— and maybe kids at heart, he thought, looking back up to Darcy.

But in that brief silence after her reply, the one where Bucky tried to find the right words to say to Darcy that would lead to the least awkward conversation, Maisie was already distracted by the servers crossing the floor in their pink and brown aprons. Which was more comforting than Bucky would ever admit, half-expecting the kid to run screaming away from the tall, long-haired man before her.

“I bet the SI rumour mill was working in full force while I was away,” Darcy muttered, trying to sound casual as she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

“Tony was convinced you’d abandoned him, but you know me. I don’t put much stock in rumours,” Bucky replied. “I’m just glad you’re OK.”

A beat of silence and a flush across her face would have read different a few months back. Maybe led to something. They had danced around each other all year at this point, rushed moments in hallways and early mornings. Sweets anonymously slipped into his suite after hours. The occasional coffee run or escape from the Tower. The odd night sharing the same bed. 

And from the look on Darcy’s face, Bucky could tell she was thinking the same.

But the pitter patter of tiny feet and a very impatient Maisie sobered the moment and Darcy was back to chewing at her lower lip. Another nervous habit. Another tell.

“You in town long?” Bucky offered, trying to cut the awkwardness.

The subconscious flicker in her expression told him she wasn’t about to give him a straight answer. Still, Darcy plastered a smile on her face, something akin to what she’d wear at the Tower behind every awful call with the press— something Bucky could see through like freshly-polished glass.

“I was actually just about to stop by Clint’s for a tour.”

The mood darkened slightly as Bucky put the rest of the pieces together, softening at Maisie’s saucer eyes at the array of colourful baked goods behind the counter. It almost seemed normal, them here as family, treating the kid to something sweet. Something you’d do to celebrate a milestone… Or cheer someone up. 

Or distract them from the harsher parts of life, holding onto that last bit of childhood innocence.

It was hard to look at the two, knowing all the unsaid things that lurked beneath. 

Bucky knew this must have been the family emergency she’d been pulled away for, that much he’d been able to connect. But a _tour_ of her apartment at Clint’s didn’t sound like Darcy was staying long, and by her tone, he’d bet she didn’t have the words to tell him.

And suddenly he wanted to stretch the short time they did have.

“Need a chaperone? I’m off duty today.”

It wasn’t entirely true; he was still on call as far as the Avengers were concerned, but he doubted Stevie would want Darcy off her own for a bad news mission. At least, that’s what this felt like: a drawn out goodbye.

He managed to get a real smile out of her this time, “I’d love that.”

Bucky quickly tossed the rest of his cocoa, grabbing the stack of cupcake boxes off the counter before Darcy could protest and slipping a bill into the tip jar.

“First stop: Stark Tower.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter checks of box Y4 - Animal Rescue on my Darcy Lewis Bingo card.

At first, Bucky thought they had gotten off scot-free.

Maisie was mostly behaved as they walked the two blocks back to Stark Tower, hand-in-hand with Darcy as Bucky trailed behind, eyeing every passerby suspiciously. Occasionally those big green eyes would stare back at him as she tugged Darcy’s arm, checking whether he was still there. 

“Alright, munchkin,” Darcy warned, the strictest she’d sounded all morning as they passed through the automatic doors, “you have to hold my hand, OK? That’s the rule.”

The lobby was basically empty —well, by Stark standards— which was good when a rambunctious five-year-old was intent on exploring every corner of the futuristic building. Bucky chuckled to himself as he wondered who was really leading who here. Both he and Darcy already knew the answer.

His thoughts ran away with him as he looked on. It was hard for them not to when Maisie was the spitting image of a young Darcy. 

All headstrong, pale skin, dark hair and bright eyes.

No one on the street would take a second look at the pair, likely assuming they were mother and daughter. And something about what wasn’t in that picture, about that added responsibility and complete change of lifestyle dumped in both of their laps by the hands of fate twisted his stomach into knots. On one hand, he was glad they had each other, but on the other, the logical, spy part of his brain wondered just how much it would change both of their lives in yet to be seen ways.

Actions and consequences and all that.

But Maisie’s hand never left Darcy’s, never even tried to disengage. She proudly read off bits and pieces of signs and plaques as Darcy held that shaky smile on her face, getting a little more solid with each step. 

After the pair’s quick detour to explore the holographic displays in the atrium, the trio made their way to the elevator and headed for the upper floors, where several Avengers and high-profile researchers had their quarters. They’d barely stepped out of the elevator car when a familiar voice rang out.

“Who are you and what have you done with our lab assistant?”

Something about an unannounced stranger must have spooked Maisie as she shrunk behind Darcy at light-speed. Eyes as big as her face, she stared up at Tony from around Darcy’s hips.

Tony Stark was a touch dramatic on a good day, but he tended to bring it out in full force for those he tolerated. It was no secret Darcy Lewis was on that very short list, so Bucky was pretty sure he’d been watching them from the lobby, just waiting for the perfect time to head them off.

“You run off, you don’t call, you have some sort of family…” Stark trailed off in the middle of his ramble to stare down at Maisie. “Emergency…?”

“Auntie Darcy, is that Iron Man?” Maisie half-mumbled, seemingly finding her voice in the back and forth that was more mouth gaping than words. Her little hands were still clawing into the back of Darcy’s wool coat, using her aunt as a human shield.

The logical part of his brain itched to tell her it wasn’t the worst in the way of strategies.

And if anything, her piping up seemed to answer at least one question on Stark’s mind, based on his expression. Maybe two, if Bucky gave him the benefit of the doubt. Still, Tony’s eyes darted between Darcy and Maisie as he knelt down to her level, trying to make sense of the rest of it the only way he could:

Rambling overcompensation.

“She knows who Iron Man is? What am I saying? Of course she does. Everyone knows who Iron Man is. He’s the best Avenger there is. Isn’t that right?” 

Tony seemed to get away with himself. The words tumbled out of his mouth before whatever was left of his filter kicked in a little too late… or not at all. 

Brushing off his pant legs, he rose and turned back to Darcy, “Anyway, what’s the account number on her college fund? For science, of course.”

Anyone who knew Tony knew he wasn’t really joking, not really. There was no playful tone or pet name or pop culture reference. There was no accusation or malice. Tony Stark wasn’t one for emotions, but his offer was about the only thing he could say without giving away that he was experiencing a lot of them in that brief moment.

Darcy stared at him, slack jawed and a little incredulous as she shook her head. 

Opting to ignore Tony, she turned to Maisie, “Little miss, yes, this is Tony Stark, infinitely less cool than Iron Man, but somehow still wears the suit. And no, Tony. No,” she told him like he was the dog to her newspaper. “I’m just here to offer cupcakes and my letter of resignation to the team.”

“Resignation?” 

Bucky and Tony had the same thought and tone for probably the first time in their lives, looking at Darcy like she’d grown a second head. Shrinking back slightly, she bit her lip, holding Maisie’s hand a little tighter.

“Taking care of Maisie is a full-time job, and I don’t want to uproot her. I’ve thought a lot about this, and I know it’s what’s best for her right now,” Darcy explained a little quieter, blue eyes glassing over. Bucky could see that shame, that worry that they’d lash out at her or try to talk her out of it. “This, me being here, is just a trip for us. Tomorrow we head back to my sister’s place— to Maisie’s house.”

Maisie seemed uncomfortable at the turn in conversation, pulling at Darcy’s coat sleeve.

“And you? What’ll you do?”

Bucky had never heard Tony string so many words together without an ‘I’ in front of them, so he watched as Darcy picked up and propped Maisie on her hip. Like she was calling in reinforcements. Like she was putting on her new-found armour. 

Pushing Maisie’s bangs out of her face, Darcy looked at them both, a little more determined now.

“I’ll be picking up the family business, actually. My sister owned an animal rescue just outside of Portland, right on the property.” Darcy chuckled humourlessly, “I don’t know the first thing about rescues, but they’ve got a good team there that’ll show me the ropes.”

Tony looked torn, mouth opening and closing like he just couldn’t find the words to say. 

Stark always had a soft spot for Lewis. Something about her keeping him fed and somewhat rested with her nagging and incessant breaks in his lab. Amidst the scowling, she was the cheerful breath of fresh air that had grown to be familiar at the Tower, so it wouldn’t have surprised Bucky at all if he had tried to coerce her with some sort of counter-offer.

“I get it,” Tony finally said, adjusting his tie and avoiding eye contact. “I accept your resignation. I _guess_.”

Darcy didn’t sound convinced, “You do?”

And suddenly Bucky realized he was watching two sides of the same coin, both of them admitting things between the lines that they couldn’t say out loud. Both putting on a brave face for the other’s comfort. Both had been through this in different ways. Sure, Stark might have adopted a company instead of a human being, but the level of life-altering was up there.

Maybe that’s why he seemed to have a proud smile across his face as he turned to her.

“You do what you have to do, Lewis. But if you need anything, you come to me, OK?”

Darcy’s lips tugged down slightly and Bucky could tell the tears were coming before they were sliding down her cheeks. Throwing her free arm around Tony’s shoulders, Bucky could hear the whispered thanks and apologies.

“You’re not allowed to cry on me,” Tony hissed half-heartedly, voice thick and muffled. “This goes against all of my rules.”

“Rules shmules.”

Maisie just buried her head into Darcy’s shoulder, tired and bored and a little upset, like any five-year-old would be at weepy adults. She’d probably seen her fair share of them recently. Bucky’s stomach lurched at the thought.

But before Bucky could even make heads or tails of the rest of the watery conversation, Tony was crossing the room while Darcy wiped at her eyes.

“You take care of our girls, yeah?” Tony murmured below his breath, patting Bucky on the bicep as he made his way back towards the living quarters.

Bucky answered him in the fewest syllables possible, hoping to hide his shock that maybe, just maybe Tony Stark had seen something in them. Recognized it, even.

“‘Course.”

Tony’s oath echoed in his brain as they made their way to the kitchen, mostly on autopilot as the group called out hellos and pleasantries. Bucky didn’t miss they were mostly towards Darcy.

Feeling a little like the elephant in the room after the lobby chat, Bucky set the cupcake box on the counter and beelined to the back corner before Natasha hopped off the island where she’d been perched. He did not need her sticking her nose into his sore spot right now, but thankfully she seemed more distracted by someone else.

“Darcy! _Who_ have you got there?”

Somewhere between Darcy introducing Maisie and Tony filling in the blanks, Bucky tuned out and took in the scene. Maisie was hiding again, burrowing deeper into the crook of Darcy’s neck as the adults talked around them. By the swaying and the jitters, he could tell Darcy was starting to lose her grip on the kid, arms tiring from a day of keeping her occupied and engaged.

He knew that look of exhaustion on Maisie’s face well, too; that didn’t seem to change no matter what year it was. They were probably a half hour away from a meltdown by his count. If they were lucky.

Darcy seemed to sense it too, starting to wind down conversation and murmur quiet assurances into Maisie’s ear.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving the city,” Natasha mused, genuine shock permeating the words. Bucky almost had to stop his eyebrows from shooting into his hairline at the sound. “Well, I know we’re _all_ going to miss you a lot.”

Bucky didn’t miss the glance Natasha shot his way over Darcy’s shoulder as they hugged.

Steve snuck into the room as they rest of the group peppered Darcy and Maisie with questions and compliments. Bastard had probably heard the whole thing from his room, knowing better than to walk straight into an awkward conversation.

“You need the day off, Buck?”

Bucky nodded, not even looking to see the expression on his friend’s face. Something about it just hit him in the gut. Stevie knew that.

“Yep.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been in a Not Great™ headspace lately, and today's been kind of rough, so I'm posting this a little early 💜

Somehow Bucky managed to pry Darcy away from the Avengers. He could see the way their sombre goodbyes and good-natured questions took it out of her. The slump in her shoulders and the way she was holding herself up solely with the help of the kitchen cabinetry.

Never mind the little girl fidgeting on her hip, struggling to fall asleep in a sea of strangers.

“God, she’s going to need a nap so bad,” Darcy whispered, anxiously checking her phone as they settled into the backseat of the SUV.

The last buckle on her car seat had barely clicked together, and Maisie’s eyes were already struggling to stay open. Darcy ran her hands over her hair, smoothing out the frizzy bits sprouting from her braids. Thankfully, something about the car ride seemed to rock her into sleep, head firmly leaned against the edge of her car seat with no sign of waking. Not that Darcy took her eyes off her, stormy blues flickering every few minutes to watch the rise and fall of her chest.

Bucky put his hand on Darcy's knee, squeezing softly. He could see some of the tenseness fade at that as she leaned into him a little more.

“Ma used to have to bounce Rebecca on her hip until she fell asleep most nights. For probably too long,” Bucky chuckled, wondering just how many years she’d milked the habit. “I hear they have gadgets for that now.”

“Jolly Jumpers. God, do I ever miss those days,” Darcy sighed. “She got so big, so fast.”

The stuffed bunny Darcy had pulled from her purse teetered on the edge of the seat. Bucky had a hard time tearing his eyes from it, wondering if he should reach over and right it. Darcy seemed to notice, following his gaze with her own.

“It used to be mine,” she explained, propping the rabbit back into her sleepy hold. “Used to be my favourite toy, so when my sister announced she was pregnant, I gave it to her as a joke. But the joke’s on me because Maisie loved it.”

There was something about her story that made that little rabbit seem like a door to the past.

“Our whole house growing up was just hand me downs, from the kids around the neighbourhood and our cousins and friends,” Bucky admitted. “Used to be a lot more common in those days, I bet.”

The car stopped in the middle of Bed-Stuy, in front of a familiar brick building.

Bucky watched from the sidewalk as Darcy tried to figure out a way to shimmy the girl out of her restraints, and even though the offer he was about to make made him more nervous than he’d ever admit, he could tell she was tired. And very much doubted Darcy would be able to make it up to her third-floor walk-up with Maisie on her hip. 

“Do you want me to try?”

A flash of surprise delayed Darcy’s response, nodding gratefully after a beat, “If you don’t mind?”

Bucky shook his head, reaching in to easily cradle her against him. He softened his chuckle as Maisie nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, still asleep. They managed to get her up to Darcy’s apartment with minimal fussing, Bucky’s hand coming up to shield the back of her head instinctively. It surprised even him, those memories from cold nights in Brooklyn, trying desperately to lull his sister to sleep on those nights his mom had to work a double. 

But by the time Bucky wove his way towards Darcy’s bedroom, Maisie was starting to stir.

“Auntie Darcy?” Maisie rubbed the sleep from her eyes as Bucky set her down, a little scared she’d pitch a fit when she realized it was her aunt holding her.

“Right here, munchkin.” Darcy smiled from the door, several envelopes that had been wedged under the door still in her grasp. “Do you like my apartment?”

“Wow,” Maisie breathed, hopping off the bed and taking a lap in a split second before winding up at the wall of Polaroids Darcy hung off a string of lights. _Fairy lights_ , Darcy’d called them when he was over helping her put together the bookcase in the back corner. “That’s you!”

A tiny finger stretched out to a photo at last year’s Stark Industries Christmas party. They were just weeks away from this year’s big event, a flashy show of money and booze. But also probably the most fun night of the year, even for Bucky.

Well, as long as Darcy was there.

“Yep. Your Auntie won a contest that night, actually—”

“ _Barnes_ ,” Darcy warned, but she couldn’t help the smile on her face at the memory.

He pretended to mull it over, tapping his finger over his lips for effect.

“—What was it for again? Beer pong?” Bucky made a dramatic turn of his head, framing his eyes with his hand and squinting at a spot across the room. “Is that the trophy?”

Darcy groaned, “I swear to god, Barnes.”

Maisie looked up, eyes like saucers, and having taken the bait hook, line and sinker. 

“Auntie Darcy, what’s beer pong?”

Bucky couldn’t keep the smirk off his face, watching the cogs turning in her head for an age-appropriate explanation. This was more of their usual; familiar and challenging. Their back-and-forths lasted evenings sometimes, culminating on the couch, against a wall, in a bed, even, sometimes…

“It’s like cornhole, but for grown-ups,” Darcy replied swiftly.

That seemed to appease Maisie, who continued to assess the space, trailing little fingers against everything within reach. The sound of the front door wrenching open made Darcy and Maisie freeze, but Bucky had heard the footsteps coming a floor away.

Barton was a lot of things, but subtle wasn’t one of them.

“What’s this I hear about you leaving us?” Clint didn’t bother knocking, strolling right in through the front door like he owned the place. He did, actually.

He met Darcy in the doorway of her bedroom, keeping his distance like he was waiting for her to make the first move. Smart. Clint was a hell of a lot smarter than he liked to play, shooting Bucky a subtle nod as he entered.

“Please don’t make me do this again. Tony was hard enough,” Darcy whined, lazily leaning herself against Clint’s chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

Bucky held his breath, waiting for the tears to fall, since she was out of sight of the little one. And predictably, he could hear the hitch in her breath as Clint tightened his hold. That stabbing pain in his abdomen returning with the crinkle of concern on Clint’s face. He, too, was struggling to see her like this.

“It’s OK, Darce. We’re just going to miss you, is all,” Clint said a little softer, the fight long gone and the worry set in.

Darcy sniffled, “I’m going to miss you dorks, too.”

Maisie was peeking around the corner in the kitchen, staring wide-eyed at the new stranger. Darcy hastily wiped at her eyes and crouched down to catch her eye.

“This is my friend Clint,” Darcy said softly. “He’s an Avenger. Hawkeye. Your favourite.”

The shy smile that stretched across Maisie’s face would have melted steel, and Clint quickly knelt down with a proud look on his face, “Your favourite, huh?”

Maisie slunk towards him, nodding as Darcy went on, “Clint, this is Maisie.”

“Well, I think you have excellent taste in Avengers,” Clint said with a chuckle. “It’s very nice to meet you, Maisie. Do you want a hug?”

Maisie looked to Darcy for permission before launching herself at Clint at the first sign of a nod. 

An _oof_ escaped him at the impact, “You’re so strong!”

And with the introductions out of the way, Bucky and Clint kept the girl occupied as Darcy got their things settled, fluffing the pillows on the couch and taking a few moments alone in her bedroom.

“You don’t have to stay,” Darcy told Clint as she emerged bundled in a sweater he recognized, eyes still a little red.

“I know, kiddo. You’re going to be just fine,” Clint replied, striding forward to ruffle her hair. “I’m going to head out and give you some room, but you take care of each other, yeah?”

Clint didn’t have to say anything else as he left. Just shot Bucky a glance they’d shared a few times before (usually behind Natasha’s back) and returned to his apartment. 

Maisie and Bucky ended up on the couch, flipping through kid’s movies on Netflix to keep the little one occupied. Tucked into his side —probably for warmth— Maisie was singsonging maybes and nos through the colourful stream of movie posters.

“You staying here for the night?” Darcy asked finally, after minutes of sneaking glances at his face from the kitchen. “I was just going to order some dinner and pack the last of my things.”

Darcy hadn’t stopped moving since they’d got in, a flurry of rifling through her things for mementos and paperwork she couldn’t leave behind for the movers. So Bucky took to keeping Maisie occupied, distracted, with anything he could manage.

Trying desperately not to notice the heaving sobs coming from the bathroom every fifteen minutes from his spot on the couch.

“Yeah. Thought maybe Maisie and I could have a sleepover, make a little pillow fort on the couch?”

Maisie’s ears perked up at that, head turning at lightspeed toward her aunt, “Can Bucky stay? Please, Auntie Darcy?”

Eyes flicking back over to him, Darcy smiled softly, “Can he?” 

Bucky pulled Maisie a little closer and ruffled her hair.

“Absolutely.”

* * *

One hair mask, 10 pink and polished fingernails and too many mugs of cocoa later, Maisie was fast asleep in her fort, leaving Darcy and Bucky staring as the TV played out the remainder of the _Princess and the Frog_.

“It must be hard. Does— does she ask about them?”

Clearing her throat, her blue eyes shot to the floor, “Yeah. Um, death is a hard concept at five. It’s um, it’s a lot of questions and just trying to be as honest as I can be, but there are good days and bad days.”

She looked a little better now, with the last of her apartment’s wine and a little food in her. Still, Bucky wished he could have seen her be OK. Seen her through this and out the other side. Because seeing Darcy like this, all held together with a thin strip of scotch-tape, made his heart hurt.

Darcy pressed her lips together, holding back the tears as Bucky squeezed her hand, “Are _you_ OK?”

It felt like there was an ocean of unsaid words between them, even though they were side-by-side. He’d never felt more distant from her, more unsure of what to say, and the start of their relationship hadn’t exactly been _smooth_.

Had it been a relationship? 

Bucky didn’t know what qualified anymore. In the real world. Where sometimes acquaintances slept with each other and marked their relationship status as ‘it’s complicated.’

It almost looked like she wanted to say something, like she was holding back the truth. Was it to spare his feelings or hers? Or was it still too raw? Was he pushing too much?

“Thank you for staying,” Darcy whispered after a while. “I don’t… I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t.”

Seeing her soften a little, Bucky wrapped his arm around her shoulder, eyes darting to the sleeping child to make sure he didn’t wake her, “You never have to thank me for things like that, Darce. I care. I just wish I could make this easier for you, somehow.”

“I know, but you’ve already done so much,” Darcy said quietly, reaching her hand over to cover his, both clasped atop his knee. She quickly closed the gap between them, setting a chaste kiss on his lips, the first he’d tasted in months, but it felt different from the last time. 

It felt like a goodbye, a little hesitant, a little sad.

Bucky traced her plush bottom lip with his thumb, “I’ve been wondering all night, all day. All these last few months, actually. What are we, Darce? What do you want here?”

Pulling away like he’d burned her with the comment, Darcy fidgeting at the other end of the couch. Even in the dark, he could feel the tears welling beneath the surface. Knew that he pushed her too far.

She was still raw, still grieving. 

Still healing.

“This is kind of uncharted territory, B.”

Hiding her face from him with her hands, he could already see her putting up that wall again. Closing herself off in some attempt at saving them both the grief of having tried and failed. She probably would rather never have known— it would hurt too much to know it could’ve worked, could have been together under different circumstances.

“I’m not going to ask you to give up your life and move to another state for me, for this,” Darcy said, waving her hand toward the sleeping lump of Maisie bundled in one of Darcy’s old hoodies beneath an Elsa blanket.

Bucky wanted to be able to tell her he would, that he would drop everything in the world to make her feel safe again, to help her feel even the slightest bit of relief.

“We’re kind of a package deal now, and I can’t ask you to do that.”

But they were both adults now, and they both knew better.

“Darcy…” 

“It’s just like starting over from scratch. All new places and people and things,” Darcy was starting to ramble between sobs, voice cracking mid-sentence as she tried to string together the rest. “Doctor’s appointments, school documentation, business registration, account appointments… I don’t know up from down anymore. I lost my sister and my brother, and I just don’t know anything.”

Her hands slammed down on the couch as she grit her teeth. Bucky’s heart seemed to lodge itself firmly in his throat, seeing this stripped-down version of her. He didn’t miss that she didn’t say _in-law_ , that they were the type of family that welcomed everyone.

She’d told him as much once. It felt like decades ago now.

“I realized that no matter how adult, how grown up I am, I know literally nothing. Especially about raising a whole other fucking human being,” Darcy’s voice dropped down to a whisper, biting at her lips like there was still more.

But she didn’t owe him an explanation or excuses. She was in pain.

And Bucky Barnes couldn’t just sit there and watch her like this.

“Well, _this_ —us— always is familiar territory, doll. It’s always here if you want it,” Bucky murmured, pulling her flush against him, breaking every rule and line he’d drawn inside himself. This was all he had to offer now: being here. “I’m always here for you, if you want me.”

And as much as he knew she had too much pride to ever take him up on it out loud, he could feel the moment she let go, body going limp in his grasp as her breathing went ragged. Though she didn’t say it out loud, he knew what she meant. What she _felt_. Because he felt it too. 

But he wasn’t about to be the man to make her change and rearrange everything in their lives for his benefit, not after everything she and Maisie had been through.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You’re going to get through this, I promise.”

Bucky didn’t sleep a wink that night, watching over both of them as they dozed in their makeshift blanket forts. Piecing together some way to fix this, to make it even a _tiny_ bit better for the both of them. And while he might not have had all the answers by morning, he wouldn’t have spent his night any other way.

Even if his stomach was in knots as he kissed her goodbye, with Maisie safely buckled into her car seat. 

All he could do was wipe the tears from Darcy’s cheeks and promise everything would work out just fine — even if he had no ground to stand on — watching as the car pulled away and out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really loved writing this chapter, and it (full disclosure) features the scene that made me write this whole thing in the first place.
> 
> Any guesses/hopes/wishes for the ending? I promise I won't spoil anything in the comments/replies.


	4. Chapter 4

This wasn’t precisely how Bucky envisioned spending his Christmas, at least not until two weeks back when he made up his mind, somewhere between Darcy and Maisie leaving for the airport and Bucky making it back to the Tower. Something about the sad look in her eyes and the way she clung to him like she didn’t want to let go made it clear as day.

The kiss helped too.

That lingering feeling on his lips had spurred Bucky into action, making plans and booking flights with Steve and the rest of the team’s blessing. 

Bucky Barnes had been stressing about today for weeks.

In fact, he’d had an overnight bag packed since the day Darcy left him on the sidewalk outside of Clint’s building. His remaining days at the Tower had been spent in back-to-back meetings with the team, HR, and his therapist (for good measure). 

And even after all that, he’d nearly driven Steve up the wall with the constant questions and assurances that today could even happen. And being the little shit that he was, Steve also made sure to pepper in some good-natured ribbing along the way, which Bucky would elbow him in return for. 

But his mind had been made up long before the kiss. 

Before the Tower. 

Before the run-in.

The truth was, Bucky Barnes would have ended up on this very doorstep one way or another— if he was honest with himself, at least. And, if anything, he was a little frustrated in _himself_ for it having taken so long to get here, to begin with.

He was an idiot. But at least he was an idiot that was here _now_

And hopefully, it was good enough.

So here he was, standing on the front porch of a house just outside the city. Hidden just behind the Rutherford family animal rescue, sitting on a few acres of land. Trees all around, no neighbours for a mile at least, and the clean scent of west coast winter in the air.

He could see why Darcy didn’t want to take Maisie away from this. 

It was a balmy Christmas Eve. Well, compared to back home in New York City. Portland was almost cracking the low 40s as NYC sat under a blanket of snow. 

He fidgeted under his leather jacket, trying to keep hold of the stack in his arms. 

This was the furthest he’d thought out his plan, standing in front of the door and feeling a little restless after the flight. Gifts piled high (the team wasn’t about to let him leave empty-handed), black SUV in the driveway (next to a red and rusty beater of a pick-up truck that might have been as old as him), and a smile on his face at the handmade snowflakes taped to the glass of the door.

He’d barely finished knocking when those bright blue eyes pulled the door back and stared up at him. The six-hour flight was worth it for that look alone.

“Buck? Wha-what you doing here?” Darcy asked, a little breathless. 

She was dressed in a flannel onesie, clearly not expecting visitors as she stood frozen in the doorway. There were three dogs’ tails slapping against the hardwood behind her, staring up at him with little whines.

_Well-trained, at least_ , he thought to himself with a smile.

“Since you couldn’t be in town for the Stark Christmas party, I thought I’d bring the Christmas party to you two,” Bucky offered, tilting his head towards the piles of presents at his feet.

Before he could manage to say anything else, Darcy had flung herself into his free arm, standing on her tip-toes as she planted a firm kiss on his lips. It took a second for his brain to catch up to the warmth against him, cupping her neck as he pulled her closer for the follow-up. Their breath made little clouds in the air around them, panting slightly as they parted.

“I missed that,” Darcy said softly, inches from his lips, eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

And before he could offer a ‘me too,’ Maisie was storming across the main floor in a bright pink sweater, dog-piling into the embrace with a loud, “Bucky!!”

He managed a grunt at the impact, buried by the sound of barking further into the house, all decorum gone in that moment. Somehow they all managed to keep the pile of presents intact as Maisie nuzzled into their arms before the rapid-fire questions started pouring from her mouth.

“Are you staying for dinner? Are we have another sleepover? Can I braid your hair?”

Bucky chuckled, glancing at the glassy look in Darcy’s eyes. Had it not been for the contented smile on her face, amidst the red painting her nose and the apples of her cheeks from the cold, he might have been concerned, but Darcy looked happy. 

Happier than he’d ever seen her if he had to bet.

Without tearing his eyes from hers, he smiled. “Of course, munchkin. Whatever you want; it’s Christmas, after all.”

Darcy cleared her throat, quickly wiping at her eyes. She crouched down, trying to pry the girl from her iron grip around Bucky’s waist.

“Maisie, why don’t you go get your onesie on, and we can have a pyjama party today?” Darcy suggested, eyes flicking up to Bucky with a smile.

The “OK!” trailed behind her in the dust, leaving the two of them alone again on the porch, Bucky’s hands still intertwined with Darcy’s.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” she said softly, motioning to the presents.

“This ain’t me, Darce. Way above my pay-grade,” Bucky explained with a smirk. “I recommend a strongly-worded email to Captain Christmas himself if you have a problem with it.”

“Captain Christmas, huh…?” Darcy huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure Stark and Barton had absolutely nothing to do with this.”

Bucky barked a laugh, brushing a piece of hair behind her ears, “I’m pretty sure Banner added something to the pile too. Oh, and don’t forget Pepper.”

“God, I hope it’s those Belgian chocolates she loves. I didn’t get to steal a box from her personal stores this year,” Darcy sighed dreamily.

“Well, you can thank them in person next week.”

Her eyebrows rose to her hairline as she looked up at him, “Next week?”

“I could only keep them away until New Year’s,” Bucky said with a chuckle. “And it was supposed to be a surprise, but I think you’ve had enough of those lately.”

Darcy hummed, burrowing into his arms for warmth and comfort. After a few moments of basking in the glow, interrupted only by the pitter-patter of little feet echoing through the house, Bucky and Darcy headed inside, dropping the gifts under the tree. 

The homemade ornaments and family photos on the mantle made gave the impression of the once-bustling home it used to be. His fingers caught a popsicle snowflake, initialled ‘D.L.’ in red marker, its twin just a few branches away and signed with a shaky ‘M.R.’ 

“So, how exactly did you swing this?” Darcy asked as she plopped an armful of gifts on the tree skirt. “You superhero types never get holidays.”

“Technically, I’m on the clock. Tony thought it might be good to have a base nearby, so I’m on scouting duty,” Bucky explained the flimsy excuse, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss into her hair. “Barton’s trying to convince him to start the West Coast Avengers or something.”

“Sounds like Clint,” Darcy chuckled. “So this is Tony’s way of caring, huh? Without the whole emotions thing?”

“Mm, might be… Especially since you never did give him that account information.”

As his eyes drifted around the room, Bucky could see the similarities in Darcy’s sister, Janet, smiling side-by-side with Maisie’s father, Mark, in a nearby portrait. He couldn’t even imagine how difficult it must be for Darcy to live here, the shadow of their lives and accomplishments all around her.

All for Maisie. 

She’d dropped everything in her life to take care of the sweet girl who didn’t deserve any of this; neither of them did. Yet Darcy had to put on a brave face despite it all, and Bucky, well, he couldn’t have been prouder of her.

“I almost forgot!” Darcy’s voice broke through his train of thought. “You, uh, might want to get a look at what my little Picasso has done.”

Darcy led him further into the house by their intertwined hand, the sound of Christmas music softly playing somewhere on the second floor. 

Bucky’s eyes trailed through the kitchen, white cabinets and gold handles, clearly updated recently. 

It looked like Bucky caught Darcy mid-baking, as the sight in front of him settled in. The flour-spattered apron and various mixing bowls, half-full and half-mixed, gave it away. And then the scent of fresh chocolate chip cookies set in, and Bucky Barnes was in heaven. 

But it wasn’t the pancake and cookie mix strewn across the counters that caught his eye. 

Taped to the stainless steel fridge was a crayon portrait in brown, black and blue.

“Maisie _might_ have a new favourite Avenger since we’ve been back,” Darcy explained, leaning her head against his shoulder as he examined it.

“Kid draws better at five than I can at a hundred,” Bucky joked.

He’d expected to get a chuckle out of her, maybe even a snort if he was lucky, but the silence that followed was telling. By the time his eyes locked back on Darcy, she looked like she had something to say.

“Listen, before you say whatever you came all the way here to say, I think you should know,” Darcy said, looking down at her fidgeting hands, brushing flecks of dough off her fingers. “I’ve done a lot of thinking since I’ve been back here. And… I want this.”

“This?” Bucky couldn’t help but let the surprise in his voice bleed through, the corner of his lip quirking just enough for her to catch it.

“You and me— if you still want it,” Darcy started, nervous now and starting to stumble over her words. “I’m willing to make it work however you want to. _If_ you want to.”

Brain awhirl, Bucky hesitating for a beat. Darcy seemed to take the immediate silence as an invitation to continue.

“I mean, if you’re OK with maybe being out here a little more, and being apart sometimes, and covered in dog fur and mystery stains for the rest of your life and—”

“Darcy,” Bucky’s mouth curved into a smile, watching her ramble on. “I want you. I want this. I’m totally fine with dog fur everywhere if it means more time up here. With you. You _both_.”

He closed the gap between them, grasping her hands in each of his as he bent down to capture her lips with his. The kiss was more than enough to seal the deal. One arm pulled her closer, the other sinking into her hair to deepen it. It was far from the chaste peck Darcy had offered in New York. 

They pulled away, only their breathing echoing in the room as they took each other in.

“All this time away from you, and I’m only starting to realize it’s not the place, you know,” Darcy murmured into the crook of his neck. “You always feel like home.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her words, feeling that warmth from head to toe as he breathed her in—the scent of brown sugar and caramel, a little hint of citrus peeking through from her shampoo.

She was right, though. This felt like home.

“We’ll make it work,” Bucky whispered, lips inches from hers. “Home is wherever you two are.”

“Promise?”

But Darcy didn’t get a chance to have her question answered. Tiny footsteps made them both turn their heads towards the kitchen entrance.

“Why are we hugging?” Maisie asked with wide eyes and a familiar bunny in her fist.

“Because we’re very happy,” Darcy explained, extending her hand to the girl. “C’mere.”

Propping Maisie on her hip, Darcy’s free hand found Bucky’s back pocket, pulling him closer towards them both. And it could have been a picture; it could have been the front of some cheesy holiday card somewhere. It still felt like a dream.

But if Bucky knew anything, he knew that this was where he was supposed to be.

And everything else would come in time.

“Merry Christmas, Bucky Barnes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If no one's told you yet: This year's been rough as hell, and I'm proud of each and every one of you for making it this far.
> 
> I have a couple of new Wintershock series planned for early 2021. The first one will likely go up by mid-January, so keep your eyes out.
> 
> Thank you to every single subscriber, reader, commenter and bookmarker.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading. All comments, kudos and bookmarks are loved and cherished.
> 
> See you next week! Same time, same place.


End file.
